The Dark Places R. Whitfield (read aloud books TXT) 📖

“It’s been a while,” she said truthfully, thinking of the necklace and let out a small laugh. She unbuckled her belt and opened the door. Parker did the same. “Where do you think you’re going?” she said with an irritable tone she didn’t entirely intend.

“To your couch,” he replied, nonplussed.

“What?” she stuttered. The thought of him sleeping in her house, sending a delightful but unwanted shiver up her spine. “I don’t need a freaking babysitter, Rhodes,” she said defensively, slamming the car door shut.

“Good,” he said, not in the least bit intimidated, “because I would make for lousy company tonight.” He looked at her, smiling. She shook her head, ignoring his grin, and marched up to the door, feeling like a damsel in distress. Her hands shook as she unlocked it and flicked on the entry lights.

“Since you’re not an invited guest, you can sort yourself out — I’m going to bed!” With that, she stormed down the hallway and shut her bedroom door. Parker chuckled to himself and settled down to sleep on her comfortable couch. Angry or not, at least this way he knew she would get some much-needed rest. After all, working with an exhausted Surin Elliott was not in anyone’s best interest.

At the other end of the house, Surin heard the lamp in the living room click off, and she eventually closed her eyes. She would never have admitted it to anyone, especially not Parker Rhodes, but she was glad he was here. Ever since finding that chain, sleep had eluded her. Tonight, however, she felt her body let go and dreams of the ocean and pearly white sand finally came.

Surin awoke to the comforting aromas of frying bacon and brewing coffee. She stretched her arms above her head like a feline and moaned aloud. Shifting lazily onto her side, she stared at her alarm clock. Eight fifteen, wait, that can’t be right. A sense of panic surged through her as she shot up from the bed onto her feet. The room suddenly started to spin. She grabbed the bed frame and closed her eyes for a second. Whoa, girl, jumped up a little too quickly, she said to herself, waiting for her head to catch up with her body. Once she felt OK enough to walk, she went into the bathroom and splashed water on her face. The coolness of the liquid made her feel instantly refreshed. She eyed herself in the mirror, noticing her long hair in disarray. Shrugging her shoulders, she unhooked her robe off the back of the door and wrapped it around her body.

As she walked into the kitchen, still rubbing her eyes, she had to stifle a laugh. Parker was standing in front of the hotplates in his white singlet, blue boxer shorts and socks.

“Morning,” she said with a smile. He spun around, holding a fry pan, and grinned.

“Morning, to you,” he replied. “Sleep OK?” he asked, returning his attention to the eggs that were poaching.

“Actually, yes,” she said and sat down at the table, tucking one leg up under her. “Best in a long time. Certainly the longest sleep in I’ve had for about a decade.” She watched him work his way around her kitchen, amazed at how comfortable he was in there.

“I have already called the station and let them know we’ll be in late,” he said.

“OK, thanks,” Surin replied. “I have to call Madison,” she said, already dreading that conversation.

“What the hell for?” Parker asked, raising his voice slightly.

Surin shrugged. “I gave her my word we would keep her in the loop, and she doesn’t know the details about Lana yet.” She tried to run her fingers through her knotty hair and sighed, giving up.

“So, whatcha making there?” she asked humorously, changing the subject.

“Only the Rhodes family favourite,” he said with that stupid grin. Surin couldn’t help but laugh loudly — he looked like an excited ten-year-old.

“Well, I need a coffee,” she said, standing to grab a cup, but before she could, Parker placed one in front of her. She smiled. “And what did I do to deserve such special treatment?” she asked, taking a tentative sip and humming appreciatively.

“Nothing.” He shrugged. “I like to cook, and I don’t get to do it very often any more.”

She watched as he plated up two impossibly large servings and laid them on the table. There was crispy bacon, poached eggs, ciabatta loaf, baked tomatoes and avocado.

Surin’s mouth started watering. “This looks amazing, Rhodes.”

He picked up his knife and fork, sitting opposite her. “Sure beats the last few meals I’ve had,” he replied and started digging in. They ate together in comfortable silence. Surin noticed he had brought the paper in, and she unrolled it to see if anything else had been reported about Isabelle.

“Nothing more on Isabelle,” she said, in between mouthfuls.

“Thank God for that,” he mumbled.

“And strangely enough, nothing on Lana,” she added. “I thought the media would have been onto that like white on rice.”

Parker put his fork down and drained his glass of juice. “Maybe they thought it was just a car accident?” he added.

“Hmm,” said Surin, folding the paper and putting it on the chair beside her. She leaned back and stretched, rolling her neck from side to side as it cracked appreciatively. “Right, I’m going to ring Madison and then we are off to the station,” she said, standing. As she stood up, her robe fell open to expose her in her old white see-through singlet and boyleg underpants. She stood there, frozen for a second, looking at Parker. His gaze did not shift from her. She felt a heat build its way from her toes, all the way up to her flushing cheeks. Abruptly, she turned and walked briskly down the hallway, closing the door, and leaning her back against it in an attempt